


The Slow Dance of the Infinite Stars

by revanchistsuperstar



Series: The Stardust Legacy [5]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: "Oh would you look at that I've been impaled.", Angst, But to be fair I'm not the one who whumped him, Children of Characters, F/M, Jealousy, Polyamory, Reunions, Strained Relationships, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 18:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15030275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revanchistsuperstar/pseuds/revanchistsuperstar
Summary: Nathema changed everything.Ixaleii Stardust might have eagerly forgiven Theron Shan, the man that everyone was convinced had betrayed her in favor of the Order of Zildrog, but not everyone in the Alliance is so quick to welcome him back into the fold. Least of all her other husband, Corso Riggs.Now that Theron is nearly recovered from his brush with death, and the Alliance seems to be winding down, Ixaleii finds her relationship with Corso might not be as solid as she once assumed.





	The Slow Dance of the Infinite Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this was surprisingly hard to write? But ever since Nathema Conspiracy launched, I've known I wanted to write it.  
> Things to note:  
> 1\. Theron and Ixaleii have been married since... about three fics in this series ago, so I reworked the "idiot spy boyfriend" scene a bit because, well... he doesn't need to propose to a woman he's already married. lol  
> 2\. I actually changed a bit more dialogue than I normally do when I include dialogue from canon in a fic, so if you're thinking to yourself "I don't remember that like that" you right, haha   
> 3\. I also changed Theron's outfit in that scene because why the hell is he wearing something he got stabbed in, THAT SHIT'S GONNA HAVE HOLES NOW
> 
> All right have fun kids! Please leave feedback if you can!

“Theron Shan was already released a few hours ago Commander, I’m sorry.”

Ixaleii Stardust frowned.

Theron had been hospitalized ever since they’d returned from Nathema, which at this point had been close to two weeks. Getting impaled through the abdomen wasn’t the sort of injury you just bounced back from, and Ixaleii was honestly surprised to hear that he had been released. Last she’d heard, the doctors wanted him to stay a bit longer. The first few days had been terrifying, and incredibly touch and go. When Ixaleii had suffered a similar injury at the hands of Arcann, she’d had Valkorion inside her with a vested interest in keeping her alive. Theron had only himself and a kolto tank, and it had been four days before he’d even opened his eyes. After that, he’d spent the next three days slipping in and out of consciousness, mumbling incoherently. When he’d finally regained some lucidity, Ixaleii had almost wept out of sheer joy.

She was never going to lose him again, not after what they’d been through.

But Theron wasn’t at the hospital, and Ixaleii honestly wasn’t sure where he might have gone. She thanked the receptionist droid at the hospital and left, heading for the Alliance base. She wouldn’t put it past her husband to already be trying to head back to work, and at the very least she might be able find someone who’d seen him.

She ended up running into Lana first, who greeted her with a smile.

“Commander, I was actually just looking for you,” her Sith advisor said. “I thought you would be at the hospital, l was about to head that way.”

“I was,” Ixaleii said, slightly confused. “Have you seen Theron?”

“Was he not there?”

Ixaleii shook her head.

“They said he’d been released.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, the doctors at the hospital wouldn’t have released him if he wouldn’t be,” Lana said bracingly. Ixaleii hoped she was right. “Do you have time to take a walk with me? We need to talk about a few things. About the Alliance.”

Though she was still worried about Theron, Ixaleii knew Lana probably had wanted to talk for a while now, and her advisor usually kept these sort of debriefs pretty succinct. She followed Lana into the hangar, where they took one of the lifts up to the upper level. All the while, Lana was already talking.

“No Alliance casualties. Minimal damage to Odessen. And we stopped an ancient machine from destroying half the galaxy. I’d say that’s a win.” Ixaleii had to agree. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse. “Factions associated with members of the Order have offered their apologies, but the fact remains… The fleet and the Gravestone—our two strongest weapons—are gone. The future of the Alliance is… uncertain. What happened on Nathema is proof that we need change.”

They’d come to a stop, at the end of the balcony looking out over the hangar and the planet beyond. Ixaleii took a deep breath, preparing herself to say something she’d wanted to say every since Theron had told her she was pregnant.

“I never wanted this to go on so long. I can’t lead the galaxy anymore.”

Lana smiled, and actually looked somewhat relieved.

“I think I’m finished as a spymaster for a while, too. After this though, I imagine the Empire and the Republic will double down on their war efforts. We may need to consider who we’ll support, when the time comes.” Ixaleii frowned. She didn’t want to consider any of that. If anything, her dreams for the future involved some far flung uninhabited backwater where she could live in comfort and obscurity for the rest of her life, with Theron and Corso, her daughters, and any of the rest of her friends who wanted in, and the Republic and the Empire could go hang for all she cared. As if she sensed this, Lana continued. “You know, it will be nice to take a break from ruling the galaxy.”

“Like you’ve ever taken a break in your life,” came a voice that made Ixaleii whip around faster than if she’d heard a blaster bolt whiz past her head.

“Theron,” she said plainly, and there he was, walking over towards them with a very pronounced limp.  He was wearing his old clothes again, his favourite coat as well, but it was hard to not notice the way they hung off his body from the weight he’d lost while with the Order. He eventually came to a stop a few paces away from her and Lana, as if he’d wanted to close the distance completely but was unsure if he should with others watching. Instead, he looked down to his feet, shuffling  them slightly as he began to speak.

“It’s uh… been a while since I was last in this room. It’s good to be back,” he said. Ixaleii nodded, and waited patiently for him to continue.  If she knew anything about Theron, it’s that these kinds of conversations made him nervous, and when he was nervous, he found in difficult to find the right words to express himself. Theron took in a large breath as if to steady himself, and then looked from Ixaleii to Lana and then back to Ixaleii again. Ixaleii frowned. Just where was he going with this? Eventually, Theron sighed. “Look, I know I put you through hell. I was reckless and stupid and it almost cost us everything. I probably don’t deserve the trust you showed me. But I did it to protect you and the Alliance. And… If you’ll have me, I’ll work hard to earn a place at your side. So… what do you say? Are we still a team?”

Theron was holding out a hand for her to shake, and Ixaleii couldn’t help but gape at him slightly. She almost had the feeling he’d been put up to this. She wouldn’t put it past Lana to have possibly even threatened Theron with bodily harm if he didn’t apologize, but as far as Ixaleii was concerned, Theron didn’t have anything to apologize for.

 “You risked your life for us,” she said plainly. “There’s always a place for you here.”

Ignoring his outstretched hand, Ixaleii pulled Theron into a tight embrace. She didn’t care who was watching. Theron tensed slightly at first, as if surprised, but melted almost immediately.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no,” he admitted quietly.

“I’ll… give you some privacy,” came Lana’s voice from behind them. As if remembering himself, Theron pulled away from their embrace then.

Lana left quickly after that, her expression inscrutable, but Ixaleii knew it was probably more due to the awkwardness rather than any residual anger towards Theron. Her and Lana had had plenty of time to talk while Theron had been incapacitated in his kolto tank, and Lana had apparently spoken with Theron at length once he’d regained consciousness. Ixaleii, on the other hand, hadn’t been able to bring herself to breach those heavier topics yet, even though she’d been at Theron’s side near constantly ever since he’d been awake. She hadn’t wanted to upset him while he was still in pain. Theron had tried his hardest to bring up everything from how sorry he was to their children a million times, but every time Ixaleii had simply quieted him soothingly and told him they’d talk about it later. Later had apparently caught up with her now.

“…..Do you want to go for a walk?” she suggested. There was an awkward silence stretching between them. So much had to be said.

“Yeah, that sounds really nice,” Theron replied, gratefulness evident in his tone.

They walked together towards the lift that would take them down to the hangar, silent again until the doors had closed.

“Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t let Lana know that Nathema wasn’t our first reunion,” Theron said, almost sounding slightly grateful as he said it.

“She was upset enough as it was,” Ixaleii replied with a shrug. “I’m surprised she didn’t try to kill you on Nathema, to be completely honest.”

Theron winced, his hand automatically going to abdomen.

“Yeah, well, in the end she didn’t have to,” he said, pained. “I’m pretty good at nearly getting myself killed all on my own.”

Ixaleii frowned.

“Are you sure you should be walking then?” she asked.

“The doctors said it was fine,” Theron replied somewhat dismissively. Ixaleii felt her frown deepen.

“You know, I went by the hospital earlier to see you and they said you were already gone.” The lift had reached the ground floor at this point. They stepped off it, heading in the direction of another lift that would take them off base.

“Oh,” Theron said, sounding genuinely surprised. “I thought they would have told you…”

“Told me what?” she asked. “Where were you?”

Theron blushed a bit.

“I wanted to call my mother,” he said, sounding almost sheepish. “She… I don’t think I could have survived the Order without her. She was the only person who knew what I was going through.”

Ixaleii’s expression softened, and she took Theron’s hand in her own. Him and Satele had a very complicated relationship, but it was encouraging to see it changing for the better.

“So did you get to talk with her?”

“Yeah, we spoke for a while actually. It was…  nice.”

The fell back into a silence after that, but it wasn’t an awkward one. Ixaleii was sure that Theron, same as her, felt grateful to just be _together_ at this point, regardless of what they were doing or saying. As they stepped outside the base, Ixaleii felt the warmth of Odessen’s sunlight wrap around her and she smiled. It was a beautiful day, that was for certain, and they walked together with no set destination. Theron had to go slowly because of his limp, but that just meant more time to enjoy the pleasant weather and sunlight. They eventually reached a clearing filled with grass and beautiful yellow flowers, and Ixaleii had to smile to herself. It almost felt like a sign. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Theron, also smiling. However, his smile was tinged with sadness.

“What is it?” she asked gently. He walked past her, as if trying to think of what to say.

“Almost every night since I left, I’ve had the same nightmare. You’re walking away—and no matter how fast I run, I can’t catch up.” Ixaleii felt her chest tighten. She wanted nothing more than to pull Theron close to her and kiss him over and over, leaving him with no doubt that she was real and that she wasn’t letting him leave her sight ever again. That’d he’d always be able to catch up. But she instead felt herself slow to a stop. Theron turned.  “Leaving you there on Umbara… it destroyed me. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for what I did.”

“I won’t pretend it didn’t hurt, Theron,” she said quietly. They both knew it was an understatement. Leaving her on Umbara might have destroyed Theron, but for Ixaleii it had been more like the universe was ending.

Theron swallowed. He was hesitantly reaching out to her, but his hand faltered.

“I don’t want to assume anything here, Ix,” he said, sounding nervous. “I don’t want you to think you’re… beholden to you idiot spy husband or anything. If you want this to be over—”

“I already told you,” she said, cutting him off before he got a chance to work himself up too much. He looked at her with pleading eyes, and it made her sigh. Ixaleii reached out to touch his face, and Theron melted into the touch like he’d been praying for it. All things considered, he probably had. “I’ll always love you, Theron Shan. I meant that.”

“I know,” he practically whispered back. “It just feels like that’s too good to be true. Especially with everything I’ve done.”

“What, save my life? And the lives of everyone on this planet?”

Theron’s expression darkened. He looked down at his feet, shame evident in his entire stance.

“You know what I meant.”

And she did. Ixaleii thought about their daughters on Dantooine, how difficult it had been to go through that pregnancy without Theron at her side. Especially thinking what she had at that time, that Theron hadn’t wanted the children, and that her being pregnant had somehow contributed to the building resentment that had caused him to betray her. Ixaleii didn’t blame him now that she knew his reasons—she couldn’t—but the worst part of it had to be how close he’d come to accidentally causing their unborn children to die. Not once, but twice. She could easily understand how he could be this hard on himself because of that.

She frowned, lifting his chin slightly to make him look her in the eye. He seemed reluctant.

“Theron, look at me,” she said quietly, and finally he did. His hazel eyes caught the light in such a way that seemed to make them glow amber, and they were so mournful. Ixaleii knew that look, and she never wanted to see it on Theron’s face again. She was done with unhappiness. Unable to think of something to say to convey what she was feeling, she instead drew her husband in to kiss him, like she’d been wanting to ever since he’d limped over to her and Lana in the hangar.

It had been so long since their lips had met like this. The last time had been several weeks ago, before Nathema, when Theron had revealed to her that he was still on her side. Those kisses had been desperate, hard, more teeth and pressure than anything else. Before that had of course been months. Ixaleii could remember the moment as clear as it was yesterday; she’d replayed it in her mind over and over while Theron was gone, wondering what it had meant, doubting and re-doubting its significance. Her and Theron in the staging area, him kissing her so gently and sweetly it had caused her to lose her breath, holding her by her shoulders and gravely proclaiming he’d do anything to protect her. At the time, she’d thought the sadness in his eyes was just weariness from having lost his father. In reality, Jace Malcolm probably had been the farthest thing from Theron’s mind. He’d known what he was about to do. He’d know that this was probably their last kiss for a very long time—possibly forever. Ixaleii hadn’t had that luxury.

To say that she was craving him now was an understatement.

She listened to Theron sigh gently into her mouth and let him bring both his hands up to her face, clutching her with fingers that trembled slightly.

She pulled away, and looked him over, their faces still very close.

“Please let me take you back to my ship right now,” she said, her voice raw and earnest. Theron shuddered.

“Please,” he replied. “Please do.”

 --- 

In the large bed in the captain’s quarters of an incredibly familiar XS stock freighter, Theron Shan lay on his back, sweat-drenched and breathing hard, basking in a post-coital bliss he’d never hoped to experience again in his life. His wife Ixaleii, lay beside him, equally sweat drenched and naked, laughing to herself as she gasped to draw breath.

“Who would have thought we’d get to do that again?” she said, sounding slightly dazed, and Theron couldn’t help but be slightly in awe himself. The fact that he’d lived through this ordeal was nothing short of a miracle to him. Just a few short days ago, he’d been 100% prepared to give his life to ensure his wife’s would never be in danger again. He’d never even let himself entertain the hope that he’d live to enjoy that future with her. Or sex, for that matter.

“Still the best,” he said affectionately. “The same as ever.”

The sudden heaviness and warmth then of Ixaleii laying her head upon his chest and drawing herself in close to hold him caused Theron’s heart to flutter and his head to swim. He felt emotion swelling in his chest and shuddered involuntarily. He’d missed this so much. Theron knew the psychological wounds of this ordeal were going to take both of them months, possibly even years to recover from, but boy did having his wife’s warm, soft skin press against his own as she ran her hands through his hair ever feel like as good a start as any to the healing process.

“I still can’t believe you did this to your hair,” she said, and Theron had to laugh.

“You and me both, Ix.” He smiled and let her run her fingers over his mostly bald scalp for a few seconds before continuing to speak. It felt so good. It felt so… right. “What do you think, is it a good look? Should I keep it?”

Ixaleii made a derisive scoffing sound half way between a laugh and a retch, making Theron grin.

“Theron Shan, I will personally shave the ENTIRETY of your head myself in your sleep if I have to,”

“That sounds an awful lot like a promise,” he teased.

“Yeah, how’s this for a promise?” She replied. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Ever.”

“That’s fair,” he said.

Ixaleii continued to run her hands over him, moving down from his scalp to his shoulders, then his chest and eventually his abdomen. They of course came to a halt when they reached a ropy raised patch of skin on his stomach, just to the left of his navel.  She frowned, tracing the scar with a faraway look in her eyes. Theron felt a small flash of guilt, knowing by her face that his wife was replaying the moment where Vinn Atrius had impaled him in her mind.

“Ix,” he said gently. Ixaleii looked up, still frowning.

“We match,” she said, unable to keep the weariness out of her voice. Theron smiled sadly, placing his hand over her scar from a nearly identical injury Arcann had given her on Asylum.

“Maybe we ought to stop trying to save the galaxy,” he said softly. Ixaleii snorted lightly.

“Maybe if the galaxy didn’t always need saving, we wouldn’t have to.”

Theron couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“It never does seem to stay saved, does it?”

Ixaleii settled back down, her chin resting on Theron’s shoulder, and seemed to be lost in thought for several minutes. He watched her silently, glad for the opportunity to do so.

“Theron?” she asked suddenly, and he hummed in response, inviting her to continue. “When you spoke to your mother earlier… Did she mention…? Are Jykaji and Thera doing well?”

Theron smiled, emotion stirring in his chest. Satele offering to raise their daughters was probably the single most significant thing she could have done for Ixaleii, and in turn him. But he knew that Ixaleii missed her children more than anything. It was easy to see what she was thinking. Now that they were no longer in danger……

“They’re doing well,” he said, smiling. “And apparently Thera is making her toys move without touching them, so that’s… exciting I guess.”

“……Do you want to visit Dantooine once things have calmed down a bit here?” Ixaleii asked, almost sounding nervous. Theron squeezed her gently.

“Of course, Ix,” he said soothingly.

Sensing that their conversation was winding down, Theron moved to wrap his arms around her at the same time he drew the bed’s blankets around them both. There was a pleasant silence between them as Ixaleii turned onto her side in order to make herself comfortable. Theron closed his eyes, his mind humming with a pleasant haze which was on the verge of lulling him to sleep when suddenly, Ixaleii spoke again.

“Theron?” she asked.

“Yeah?” he replied, not opening his eyes.

“……Have you spoken to Corso yet?”

Theron felt his stomach lurch, and slowly he turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. His wife’s other husband didn’t exactly seem to think they were on speaking terms at the moment. While Theron was still incapacitated in the hospital, the one-time merc had come by and stood at the threshold of his door and glared at him. Theron had still been delirious from the pain and the kolto at that point, so his attempts to verbalize anything came out as nothing but indecipherable mumbling.  Corso had simply continued to stare coldly for a few minutes before walking away, as if he couldn’t believe Theron was still drawing breath and he wished with all his heart that Lana and Ixaleii had left him to die. After leaving the hospital, he’d seen Corso on his way to the hangar, from across the base, and upon their eyes meeting for just a spare second Corso had turned angrily and walked the other direction.

“Ix, I don’t think—”

“Please. Theron, I know, just… Please.”

He sighed and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head before running fingers over her scalp.

“Okay,” he said quietly.

They laid there in silence for a very long time, both simply content with being in each other’s presence. To Theron, each second he was able to feel the warmth of Ixaleii’s body and breathe in the scent of her hair was a gift. These were the things he’d missed the most when he’d be apart from Ixaleii, the things that made him feel like he was slowly suffocating each day he had to go without them. And he’d never expected to be able to have the chance to take in these simple pleasures again. He almost hadn’t. Theron held onto Ixaleii a little bit tighter. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to properly convey to her how grateful he was for saving his life and taking him back after everything he’d put her through. Words didn’t seem to do the feeling justice.

The sharp, metallic sound of the ship’s airlock opening and closing rang out through the cabin of the XS unexpectedly, causing them both to turn their heads. Theron swallowed. He had a pretty good idea who this was. He made no move to let go of Ixaleii, though, and she made no indication of wanting to pull away. He was still holding her when Corso Riggs stepped into the quarters, took one look at the two of them and then turned back towards the exit. Ixaleii took off after him, throwing on a robe to quickly cover her nakedness. Theron didn’t stop her.

“Corso, wait,” she was saying, and frowning, Theron sat on the end of the bed, pulling on his undergarments and pants in silence. That there was tension between the two of them because of him was breaking his heart. He knew just how much Corso meant to Ixaleii. This had to be hard. Theron stared at his feet trying to tune out their argument, but inevitably he had to hear every heart-wrenching word.

“Captain, I don’t want to hear it. Go back to him, it’s obvious he means more to you.”

“How can you even _say_ that?”

“Easily! He put your life in danger! He almost killed your children— twice! The whole time he was gone you were a wreck, I will _never_ forget the way you suffered. _It put me through hell._ Seeing you like that… Knowing you didn’t want me, that I couldn’t comfort you… And yet here you are, letting him hold you like… like he cares or something, like he didn’t hurt you at all! Darling, if you can’t see how plain it is that you care more about him, I…? I knew you were going to do this to me eventually, I just _knew.”_

“Do what to you Corso? I _love_ you! Even right now when you’re being a jealous dickbag, I—”

“Jealous?! Captain, when I had to watch everyone in the universe from Alderaanian nobles to pirate scum lords make googly eyes at you and I couldn’t stop blushing, that was me jealous. This… This is…”

“You have no idea how much Theron has done for me!”

Theron closed his eyes, and kneaded his temples. She was shouting at the top of her lungs now. This wasn’t headed in a good direction.

_Please, Ix, don’t say something you regret._

“I don’t want to know what he’s done! Y’all can have each other, I’ve had enough! You deserve each other, traitors and liars, both of you.”

“When have I ever lied to you, Corso Riggs?”

“Oh let’s see…  How about when you told me that you’d always love me, no matter who else you loved?”

“I _do_ love you, laser-brain, can’t you—”

“And you didn’t tell me you were pregnant!”

The silence that rang out through the XS was palpable. It was almost as if all the air had been completely sucked out of the ship, creating a cold, dark vacuum that consumed all sound. Corso had just crossed a line that Theron had never expected the man to cross, bringing the topic of Ixaleii’s children into their argument. Unfortunately, Ixaleii had set herself up for it. She’d asked her husband when she’d lied to him, and that might have been the only lie she’d ever told Corso in the ten plus years they’d been married. It was a big one, too, not the kind of thing you’d forget. As he listened to the silence stretch on, imagining how Ixaleii must be reeling from shock, Theron felt his stomach twist.  

“……Why would you throw that in my face?” she finally said, and Theron could hear that edge to her voice that meant she was crying.

Corso didn’t respond. The sound of the airlock door rang out through the ship again, and then it was quiet. Quiet except for the sound of Ixaleii softly weeping in despair. Theron stood, and though at first he only intended to go comfort Ix, after he rounding the corner and looking into her eyes, he knew that wasn’t going to be enough. He slammed a hand onto the panel that opened the door and took off down the gangplank, struggling to run through his limp.

“Corso, wait!” he shouted at the man’s retreating back, and for a second he thought Corso was going to simply ignore him and keep walking.  But he slowed to a stop, and turned. His blaster was drawn. Theron felt his stomach drop down into his toes, and he raised both hands, palms facing out. Typical. He was going to survive getting run through with a lightsaber on Nathema only to be shot to death while half naked and by a man he’d once considered one of his closest friends. “Whoa, whoa, easy! I get it, you’re angry with me.”

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“Considering you’re contemplating murder, I’d say yeah,” Theron said, trying to cover his fear with sarcasm. “That’s beside the point though.”

“Well what is the point, Agent Shan?” Corso asked roughly. “Care to enlighten me?”

“…..I just want you to hear me out.”

Corso slowly lowered his blaster, but his glare only intensified.

“You should have been left to die,” he said, voice dripping with venom. It was so uncharacteristic that Theron felt his skin crawl. He’d never heard Corso speak with anything other than a cheerful Mantellian drawl the whole time they’d known each other. But then again, Corso had been through a lot while he’d been gone.

“I don’t disagree with you!” Theron said, admitting the part of this whole situation he hadn’t yet voiced aloud. “I didn’t expect to live. If it had been up to me, I would have left me. It wasn’t up to me Corso.  It was up to her.”

Corso glowered at him for a few more seconds, and then continued to walk away down the metal catwalk towards the lift to the Alliance Base’s hangar bay. Theron didn’t try to follow him this time. He knew better than to poke an angry rancor. Sighing heavily, he turned back to the XS. Ixaleii was there, standing on the gangplank, her face filled with a quiet sort of weariness as she clutched her robe close to her body.

“I…” Theron began as he approached her, but Ixaleii put a finger to his lips, silencing him. Instead he let his hands rest on her waist as he waited for her to speak, watching her face, concerned. There were tear tracks stained onto her full cheeks, but she was no longer crying. She just looked drained.

“Let’s turn in for the night,” she said quietly. “I’m tired.”

Theron nodded, saying nothing about the fact that the sun hadn’t even set yet. Raising one hand, he ran it down her face and gently brushed her hair away from her eyes.

“Okay.”

And then he followed her back onto the ship without another word.

\---

“Do you want another round, Lana? I’ll pay.”

Lana Beniko couldn’t help but laugh a little. She couldn’t remember the last time she was tipsy like this, but it was always Koth who brought out this side of her. He’d invited her out under the guise of wanting to drink to the memory of the Gravestone, and while Lana didn’t doubt for a second that Koth was mourning his ship, she also suspected that he simply wanted to spend time with her. They hadn’t had a chance to do so in quite some time.

“Why not?” she replied, and Koth Vortena smiled at her.

“I’ll be right back. Three minutes.”

“You always say that and it’s never true!” she called after him, laughing. The Sith slumped into her chair a bit, feeling her head spin. It felt good to relax. As much as she had believed in the Alliance when they’d first started it, now that the whole thing was winding down, she couldn’t help but feel unashamedly relieved. Sure, she had no idea where she was going to go- The Empire didn’t feel right for her anymore, and the Republic was as sanctimonious and hypocritical an entity as there ever was, and Zakuul wasn’t… home. But she had a funny feeling that none of it truly mattered anyways. The Force had guided her this far, and Lana was content to continue following it. It hadn’t steered her wrong yet. It had brought her to Ixaleii after all.

Lana smiled to herself, thinking about the Commander. It was so good to see Ixaleii regaining some of her previous vitality. For a while, while Theron had been gone, Lana had been afraid that Ixaleii would actually die of a broken heart. She had never seen someone that despondent over losing a partner, and that was why she’d had such a hard time forgiving Theron when he’d so nonchalantly shown back up, swearing he’d been doing this to save the Alliance. And as much as she’d hated to admit it, her pride had been wounded by the implication that her close friend had not trusted her to be discreet enough to also work against the Order for the Commander’s sake.

_“You had be left in the dark.”_

She regretted ever saying those words to Theron, giving him over to Revan like she had, and having that drudged up and used against her years later had stung. But later, after Theron had nearly died and emotions weren’t running as high, he’d explained himself better. It hadn’t been out of spite, or mistrust, or any disbelief in Lana’s ability; Theron’s hands truly been tied. Even still, only seeing how truly happy the Commander was to have him back at her side had swayed Lana to let go of the residual resentment she’d been holding onto.

And now things were going back to normal. They were a team again. And she was getting drunk in bar with Koth, feeling carefree like she hadn’t in years.

“So that might have been four minutes, I didn’t time myself,” Koth said, interrupting Lana from her musings as he handed her the drink he’d ordered her. Lana smiled.

“Since it wasn’t a matter of being shot at this time around, I’ll let it slide.” Lana raised her glass. “To the Commander. Because without her, who knows if we’d even be in this place together.” Koth grinned and clinked his own glass against hers.

“I can drink to that,” he said fondly.  They both took long draughts of their drinks then, but when he put his down, Koth took a moment to ponder over it, staring at the liquid as if he were contemplating what to say next. “Actually, Lana, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. About us, that is. I know in the past things…… Wait, what the hell…?”

Lana’s heart had been racing, but as she turned to see what had distracted Koth from his speech she felt it nearly halt completely. There was someone storming towards them, and angrily at that. It took Lana a few seconds to realize exactly who it was, thanks to the alcohol coursing through her veins slowing her perception, but once she did Lana felt dread descend upon her like a heavy blanket. It was Corso Riggs, and there was fury burning in his eyes that wouldn’t have been out of place within the Citadel on Dromund Kaas.

 “I have a bad feeling about this,” Lana proclaimed, remembering the last time she’d had to argue with Corso, and instinctively Koth stood, creating a physical barrier between her and the Commander’s husband.

“What do you want?” Koth demanded loudly in Corso’s direction, not disguising how displeased he was with having their night interrupted.

Corso approached, and Lana could feel the rage that surrounded him like a thick, palpable cloud. Something had happened. Something to do with the Commander. Lana didn’t have to think hard to come up with the likely scenario.

“I need to talk to the Sith,” Corso said roughly.

“The _Sith_ ,” Koth replied, peevish. “Has a name. And you are out of line, so _back off_.”

“No, Koth, it’s okay,” Lana said wearily as she stood. This problem wasn’t going to get any better if they kept ignoring it. Everyone in the Alliance knew Corso Riggs was angry with what had happened on Nathema, and resentful that Theron Shan had lived. Considering the pair had once been close friends, Lana had naively hoped that Corso would have been able to come to an understanding with Theron the same as she had, but despite his normal demeanor of cheerful optimism, Lana had long ago observed that the man had a hot head and jealous nature, and he was not the sort of person to let go of a grudge easily. And if she didn’t talk to him now, Corso was sure to cause a lot more unrest than he already had.

Koth looked at Lana and frowned, obviously displeased.

“Are you sure?” he asked, probably wishing she wasn’t.

“Yes, Koth. I’ll be right back,” she assured. She then turned to Corso. “Let’s get this over with,” she said unenthusiastically.

She let Corso follow her to a turbo lift in the cantina that went to the part of the base which used to house the relay to the Eternal Throne, before the Eternal Fleet had been reduced to dust by Gemini 16 and Zildrog. Now it was just empty space, the perfect secluded area to have a conversation that might get ugly. And Lana fully anticipated that out of this situation. She knew that nothing she said was going to be anything that Corso wanted to hear, especially when he was in this kind of mood. Last time they’d had an argument, she’d crossed the line, scolded the man for his lack of communication with his wife and essentially blamed him for the state of his marriage, despite knowing full well it was Ixaleii who was pushing Corso away. Things had been strained between them ever since. Not that  they’d been especially close, but the man _was_ Ixaleii’s husband after all, and he’d been around for so much that all of them had been through. Corso Riggs just became so incredibly obstinate and hard to deal with when he was angry, and this wasn’t the first time it had become a problem.

Lana finally came to a halt in the old throne room, and turned to Corso, arms folded and lips pursed.

“You’re here to tell me I should have killed Theron Shan, aren’t you,” she said, not hiding how annoyed she was. Corso leveled her with a glare.

“You told me you’d make him pay,” he said. “I’m just wondering why that never came to pass.”

Lana pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. The alcohol was starting to make her head pound.

“Were you there on Nathema, Corso?” she asked, looking up. He didn’t reply, simply folded his arms. “Do you have any idea what he did?”

“He brought you to the Order,” Corso said. “Probably knew they were gonna try to off him. That doesn’t make him trustworthy. You _saw_ what he put her through, Lana!”

“I know, Corso,” she said quietly. “I was there with Ixaleii on Dantooine, believe me, _I understand._ But it isn’t as simple as that!”

“Everyone keeps saying that, but it seems pretty simple to me!”

“God, is there anyone else on this planet that can be this stubborn!” Lana shouted, rolling her eyes. “He _saved her life_ , Corso. He saved _all_ of our lives.”

That seemed to surprise Corso. He opened his mouth as if to argue more, but he seemed to be losing his grip on any argument that he might have had.

“……I don’t understand,” he said, obviously frustrated.

“Of course you don— Oh it’s too much to explain!” Lana produced her datapad and pulled up the debrief report she’d written concerning Theron and the Order of Zildrog. It included everything he’d told her, from the moment he’d learned of the threat to what he’d done on Iokath and Umbara to his months upon months of deep cover within the Order itself. After she’d handed it over for Corso to read, she made sure to study his face carefully, watching for any changes to his expression as his eyes scanned over the report, taking it all in. Guilt was starting to creep in to Lana’s gut as she did—obviously she should have debriefed Corso personally as soon as they’d returned from Nathema. But at the time she’d been more concerned with the state of the Alliance and with Theron and his grave condition. It just was so hard to fathom that _anyone_ in the Alliance, especially the Commander’s husband, would have no idea what had happened on Nathema. She’d been sure the story had been spreading like wildfire. Plus, wouldn’t his wife…? Lana shook her head to herself. No. Ixaleii had barely left Theron’s side except when forced the whole time he’d been unconscious in the hospital. Of course Corso wouldn’t have heard any of what transpired from her. That probably was part of why he was so upset.

It took Corso several minutes to read through everything, and when he was done, he handed the datapad back to Lana, not so much as looking her in the eye as he did. Instead, he looked down at his feet, shaking his head as he processed what he’d just read. Lana watched him, feeling the pity creep in now. It had to be hard. Theron had been Corso’s scapegoat, a convenient target for all of his resentment related to Ixaleii and how she’d acted in response to being betrayed. Probably the one thing that Corso had been holding onto was the thought of revenge, of knowing that he could make Theron pay tenfold for all the anguish him and Ixaleii were being put through. Now that illusion had been shattered. There was no way Ixaleii was going to condone any sort of punishment for Theron’s actions, and considering what he’d done, there was no way the rest of the Alliance was going to go over her head and demand it happen either. Theron wasn’t a scapegoat anymore. He was a hero.

Lana watched Corso mull this over, and his confusion was easy to feel, but perhaps more concerning was his anger, which didn’t seem to show any indication of abating. Lana frowned as she waited to hear the man’s reaction. She hoped that he’d see reason, but there was always the chance that next thing she knew, Corso Riggs would be the next big threat the Alliance had to face down.

“……He still put her children in danger,” Corso said finally. “I don’t know if I can forgive that.”

Lana felt a wave of exhaustion descend over her. That was going to be a hard point to argue, and honestly, she wasn’t sure if she had it in her. Not tonight. She’d been unable to gather the nerve to question Theron about that herself, about the fact that his plans to gain the Order’s trust had so blatantly put his own unborn children in harm’s way—not once, but twice. Left alone with Lana in his hospital room not long after he’d regained consciousness, it had been Theron himself who’d breached the topic. He’d been so groggy and woozy, Lana remembered wondering how he even had the desire to hold a conversation.

“Thank you for being there for her,” he’d said, voice weak and tired. “On Dantooine, I mean.”

“I was happy to do it, Theron,” she said, and then paused a moment. “It… wasn’t easy for her to go through that without you. I didn’t want her to be alone.”

Theron had nodded, and that’s when Lana had noticed he was starting to tear up.

“I don’t deserve to be a father.”

The statement had hung in the air between them, Lana completely at a loss as what to say in response. So instead she’d simply waited for Theron to continue. Eventually, he did.

“I know what you want to say to me Lana,” he’d said. “You completely agree. What kind of father almost kills his own unborn children twice? What kind of… of monster puts his wife through that, even if he did do it to save her?”

That’s when the tears had begun to stream silently down his face. It was hard to watch, but Lana had, looking on with the barest bit of pity starting to bloom in her heart. It had been dawning on her bit by bit each day just how much Theron had put himself through. Silently, she’d walked over to his bedside, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Theron, you need to rest. You’re not in your right mind right now, it does no good to dwell on these things,” she’d said gently, and she’d meant it. Theron had passed out again not long after that, from pain or drugs she wasn’t sure, but the conversation had stuck with Lana. It made her think back to what she’d thought of Theron when she’d still thought him a traitor, how she’d reviled him for being so cold and heartless for what he’d done to Ixaleii and her unborn children. To see that hatred pale in comparison to the hatred Theron had for his own self was sobering. She wished now that maybe Corso had been there as well to witness it.

“……You need to speak to Theron,” she said eventually, once she’d finished her musing, and Corso glowered at her. “If you and Theron don’t reach some sort of understanding, you’re going to lose Ixaleii. It’s that simple. I’ve had to watch the Commander lose a lot of people over the years. I don’t want to watch her lose you as well. Not again.”

Corso laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he looked up to the ceiling. And then, without a single word more, the man simply turned around and left. Lana sighed loudly. Maybe she’d gotten through to him a bit. Maybe she hadn’t.  There seemed to be no telling.

Staggering a bit, Lana made her way back to Koth and the cantina.

“Did it go okay?” Koth asked grimly.

“Oh, who knows!” Lana replied irritably, reaching for the drink she’d left behind and downing it in one gulp. Koth’s eyebrows raised, but thankfully he kept whatever comment he was thinking to himself. “You know, one of these days Koth, I am going to have a drink in this cantina and actually get to relax.”

“Hey, the night’s not over yet,” Koth said. “Do you need another?”

He indicated the empty glass, and Lana contemplated for a moment before finally handing the glass to her companion.

“Just promise me if I black out and start reciting Sith epics you won’t tease me about it?”

“Oh, now this I gotta see,” Koth said, grinning. “Be right back.”

“Three minutes?” she asked.

“You know it,” he replied.

Lana smiled. Maybe this would end up being a good night after all.

\---

It was early morning, just past dawn, when Theron awoke and found himself unable to get back to sleep. He’d been dreaming about his daughters again, they seemed to be all he could dream about lately. He’d only ever held them the one time…… 

Sighing, Theron looked over to Ixaleii, who was still sound asleep, and watched her for a moment.  Seeing the position she slept in, all sprawling limbs with her mouth slightly open and drooling, never failed to make to Theron smile. That was his Ix. Even dead asleep she was so unapologetically… her.  Theron reached out, his touch whisper light, and brushed a lock of hair off of her face.  She stirred slightly, wrinkling her nose as she did, and pulled the blankets tighter around her body. Theron’s smile widened, his chest swelling with affection. Beautiful. She was just… _beautiful._

It still almost didn’t feel real, the fact that he was back here, in her bed, just enjoying her warmth and watching her sleep. Everything else just seemed so trivial compared to the fact that he was allowed to be in his wife’s presence again. When he thought back to where he’d been mentally just a few spare weeks beforehand, in depths of despair and completely unable to fathom a future where he lived to see his wife forgive him, this was nothing short of a miracle.

He laid back down, closing his eyes and trying to let sleep overtake him again. For whatever reason though, Theron was simply too awake. He turned instead to watch Ixaleii again, smiling gently as he took her in. He was content to lay there and watch her until she awoke. It was a nice change of pace compared to the hectic mess his life usually was.

After about half an hour of this, Theron realized his bladder was starting to feel uncomfortably full. He extricated himself the bed carefully and quietly as he could and made his way to the ship’s refresher to relieve himself. After washing his hands, he looked up to the mirror, taking in his reflection for the first time in a while. It was hard not to laugh at his hair, and now he could understand why Ix had been teasing him so mercilessly, seeing the awkward way in which it was growing in from being shaved like it had. And maybe he was just imagining things, but it seemed like his face was regaining some of its color and fullness. Not that Theron had ever had a particularly round or full face, it was just that his months with the Order had seen him looking far more drawn and gaunt than he’d ever imagined possible. It had been hard to recognize the man he saw whenever he happened to catch his reflection as being him sometimes. Theron tried not to think too hard about how many years the stress of that situation had managed to take off his life.

Theron left the XS refresher fully intending to go straight back to the Captain’s quarters and warm bed that contained his wife, but a noise from the common area distracted him. He frowned.

‘ _Maybe Ix is awake now?’_ he thought to himself, going to investigate. It took all the self control Theron Shan possessed in his body to not shout his surprise when he saw Corso Riggs sitting there, staring into space grimly, eyes red and swollen. His dreaded hair, which normally sat atop his head in a large bunch, was let down, and in his hands he had a small braid of leather that he seemed to be staring at wistfully. Theron felt his stomach churn. He’d almost forgotten about the argument Ixaleii and Corso had had the night prior. He quite frankly hadn’t expected to see Corso again for a very long time.

The man looked up and their eyes met, and though Theron could tell Corso was still less than pleased with him, he at least wasn’t glaring this time.

“Hey,” he said tonelessly. “Didn’t have anywhere else to sleep.”

Theron nodded. He wasn’t sure Corso even had quarters assigned to him anywhere on the base, now that he thought of it.

“You look like hell,” he said. “Are you okay?

Corso rolled his eyes.

“What do you think?”

“Okay, stupid question,” Theron admitted, swallowing. He wasn’t great at these sorts of conversations. “We should talk though.”

“I agree,” Corso said, his expression storming over a bit.

“Outside,” Theron added. “Ix is still asleep, and I don’t… yeah.”

“Yeah,” Corso repeated back hollowly, and then he stood, walking in the direction of the ship’s exit. Theron followed him, frowning the whole time.

It was a chilly morning on Odessen, and the moment the air hit Theron’s exposed chest he shivered, instantly regretting not thinking to put on a shirt or shoes. This was going to be an awkward enough conversation without being half naked.

Corso finally came to a stop near the base of the gangplank, and noticing a few spare storage crates, Theron leaned up against one and waited for his former friend to speak, arms wrapped around his own body in a vain attempt to keep himself warm.

“Lana told me about everything that went down with the Order. How you did this to save us,” Corso began, and suddenly the man’s vaguely softened demeanor started to make a bit more sense. Theron felt himself let out a small sigh of relief. Maybe there was hope yet that this mess would be resolved. Ixaleii would be so happy. Corso, however, didn’t seem to be entirely free of his resentment just yet. His eyes were shining with angry, frustrated tears. “You should have told the Captain what you were planning.”

Theron grimaced.

“I _couldn’t_.”

“Bullshit. You’re a spy.”

“Yes, a spy, not a sorcerer. Corso, I…” Theron trailed off and swallowed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Corso laughed bitterly, wiping at his eyes as he looked up at the sky.

“What, like that’s gonna make anything better?” he said, voice harsh with disdain.

“What do you want from me?” Theron asked, at a loss. “What do you want from her? I’m sorry is all I have, Corso. I hurt her. I hurt you. It _killed_ me inside to do it, but _I saved Ixaleii’s life._ If you had been in my position, you would have done it too. I _didn’t have a choice._ ”

“You have no idea what I would have done,” Corso growled. “Don’t compare me to you.”

“You wouldn’t have saved her? You’ve loved Ixaleii for almost twice as long as I have.”

Corso fumed.

“That’s not… I didn’t mean…”

“Corso, look,” Theron said flatly. “After all she’s been through…..  I just want Ixaleii to be happy, okay? I’m not going to question her forgiveness. I don’t necessarily think I really deserve it, but she deserves to have everything. Anything she wants.”

“……But why does she want you?” Corso asked earnestly.

“I don’t know!” Theron said, throwing up his hands, unable to help a small bit of nervous laughter from escaping. “I’m not going to question it anymore. I make her happy. _You_ make her happy. Don’t you remember what you said to me when I first found out you and Ix were married?!”

That earned Theron a glare and a frown.

“I told you that we both loved the same woman, and that meant we were on the same side,” Corso said, flat and emotionless.

“Is that not still true?” The dreadlocked man was silent. Theron could almost see him thinking as he paused to contemplate what he’d just heard. “I know you don’t trust me. Could I convince you to put that mistrust aside for Ix’s sake?” he asked earnestly. “She loves you, Corso. Don’t put her through losing you.”

Corso snorted derisively and shook his head.

“That’s real fucking rich, coming from you,” he said, but as he folded his arms and stared Theron down, Theron could tell something had changed in Corso’s estimation of him over the course of their conversation. Finally, Corso broke the eye contact, looking away as he spoke. He didn’t sound angry now. Instead he sounded almost lost. “I… I don’t want to lose her either. She means everything to me. It just… _Twelve years._ That’s how long the Captain and I have been married. We’ve been travelling with each other a damn sight longer. Do you know what it’s like to have a woman you’ve loved that long hardly have the time to speak to you all of the sudden?”

Now it was completely clear to Theron. This hadn’t been about him at all. Well… Not directly. This was about Corso’s perception that Theron was somehow more important to Ixaleii than he was. That even though Corso was the husband who’d been with Ixaleii longer, from where he was standing, Theron was the one that she preferred. Theron thought of the way Ixaleii had cried herself to sleep the night previous, when she’d been sure that Corso was going to leave her, and felt his heart rend. Ixaleii was obviously just as in love with her first husband as she’d ever been. However, Theron couldn’t deny that ever since they’d returned from Nathema, he’d been the one she’d been spending all her time with. And from what Lana had told him, while he’d been gone, Ixaleii and Corso’s relationship had become very strained. For what had to be the millionth time, Theron felt the guilt squirm in his stomach. He didn’t want to be the wedge that drove them apart.

“……She does love you, Corso,” he said quietly. “Just as much as she loves me. I think she’s just… I’m sorry I put both of you through this. I….. I expected her to go to you for comfort while I was gone, not push you away. It was part of what made it possible for me to go through with it, knowing you’d be there for her. To console her. And to… I was honestly shocked she didn’t have you come to Dantooine with her, Corso. But my mother told me fear does strange things to people.”

Corso nodded solemnly, but didn’t reply. They were both very quiet for several minutes, Corso staring off into the distance of the Odessen wilds wistfully and Theron staring at his feet, shivering the whole time. He was grateful when Corso finally drew in breath to speak.

“……Do you regret almost killing your children?”

Theron’s blood ran cold, and it had nothing to do with the chilling wind and his naked torso.

“More than anything I’ve ever done in my entire life,” he replied, his voice suddenly very hoarse.

Corso looked him over, as if he were searching Theron’s eyes for the truthfulness behind that statement. It took everything Theron had in him to not look away and wipe furiously at the tears he could feel forming in his eyes. It didn’t escape Theron’s notice that Corso’s stare moved away from his face down to the fist sized scar on his abdomen. Finally, Corso looked away, his expression unreadable.

“C’mon, Agent. Let’s get back on the ship, you’ll catch your death in this cold.”

With that, Corso started walking back towards the XS’s gangplank. Theron followed, almost bewildered. Once back on the ship, Corso faltered slightly, as if unsure if he knew where he was going. Theron smiled sadly to himself, and then approached the man, squeezing his shoulder a bit.

“You must be tired,” he said gently. “You should come lay down.”

“She won’t…?”

“Let her decide.”

Corso nodded slowly, then turned in the direction of the Captain’s quarters. Theron followed, but paused when he reached the threshold. He didn’t want to make things more awkward than they had to be, so he was content to just look on.

More tender and quiet than a man his size had any business being, Corso sat on the side of the bed, and ran his fingers gently through his wife’s hair in order to wake her up. Ixaleii raised her head, blinking sleepily, and looking confused.

“Corso?” she asked groggily.

“Yes, darling,” he confirmed gently.

“Where’s Theron?” she asked, still barely coherent.

“I’m here, Ix,” Theron called from the doorway. She lifted her head a bit more to look at him, and slowly blinked a few times, her expression befuddled, before laying back down and looking back over to Corso.

“Corso, what are you doing here?” she asked. It wasn’t an accusatory statement, but Theron didn’t miss the shame that flashed across the man’s face. He reached out and touched Ixaleii’s cheek.

“……I want to make things right between us,” Corso said finally, his voice so quiet Theron almost had to strain to hear.  “They haven’t been for a long time. And I can’t…  I don’t want to lose you.”

Ixaleii nodded, obviously still half asleep, and then closed her eyes.

“Come here, laser brain. Take your boots off first. And your jacket.” Corso looked a little surprised at that response, but immediately moved to shrug the jacket off. “We can talk more when I’ve had some caf, just let me sleep in some. You too Theron, come here.”

Theron caught Corso’s eyes for a moment, and found himself unsure of what he saw there, but he knew for certain he wasn’t about to ignore Ixaleii’s request. He settled back in on his side of the large bed, wrapping his arms around Ixaleii’s waist from behind like he typically did each night until the position made his arm fall asleep. On the other side of the bed, Corso had stripped off his boots and his pants as well, and was making himself comfortable. It was quite obvious that he was palpably relieved. Ixaleii lifted her head a bit in order to lay it back down on Corso’s chest, and Theron couldn’t help but smile a bit to himself as he closed his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time the three of them had shared the bed like this, but it felt good.

Maybe he hadn’t managed to ruin everything.

 ---

The first thing Corso noticed when stepping off the gangplank of the XS onto the surface of Dantooine was the quality of the air. It reminded him of Ord, the plains he’d grown up on. It was no small wonder this planet attracted mostly farmers, the climate was perfect. Of course, he didn’t know a great deal about crops— his family had been ranchers, and their business had been in livestock. But it was still nice to be back somewhere where life wasn’t quite as fast-paced. He missed that.

As if she knew, suddenly his wife was at his elbow, her hand reaching up to rub his shoulder. Corso turned, and the moment Ixaleii caught his eye, she smiled. He felt a thrill shoot through him, just the same as he had the first time he’d seen the Captain flash him that grin. He’d yet to meet a woman who matched his wife in terms of pure charisma. He placed a hand over hers on his shoulder and squeezed. They’d been together nearly a third of his life at this point, and she still made him feel like a giddy teenager falling in love for the first time with seemingly no effort.

Of course, the past few weeks hadn’t been the easiest. They’d both been forced to confront some hard truths about themselves and their marriage, things they’d pushed to the side and allowed to fester for years. It had meant some difficult conversations, and quite a few tears. The demons they’d had to face down were insidious, and they’d been simmering beneath the surface long before Theron’s apparent betrayal had brought them out in the open. Ixaleii had to come to terms with the fact that she often took Corso for granted, that she mistook her husband’s steadiness and reliability to mean that she didn’t have to put in her own effort to their relationship, because as far as she was concerned he’d always be there no matter what. And Corso had had to confront his own jealousy and anger, the fact that while he trusted the Captain with his life, he didn’t trust her with his heart—not nearly as much as he claimed anyways—  and that he was always anticipating that one day she was going to reveal that she cared for Theron more than him. That mistrust had drove a wedge between them more than anything. Subconsciously, it had made Ixaleii feel uneasy about sharing things she thought might upset Corso. It had made his wife afraid of him.

Now Corso was just overwhelmingly grateful to be there with her on Dantooine, thankful to once again have his wife back and to not feel like any minute she might be stolen away from him.  And then there was Theron…

He was emerging from the ship himself now, and Corso watched as the one-time spy surveyed the small spaceport with his typical expression of outward ambivalence that almost always meant he was analyzing each and every bit of information his environment was feeding to him. Corso supposed those sort of intelligence habits were hard to break, especially for someone like Theron whose mind seemed particularly restless. Their eyes met, and despite Corso’s immediate effort to smile kindly at his friend, Theron’s face flashed with a momentary expression of alarm. Corso supposed he’d earned that sort of reaction. They’d had a few conversations of their own, and more and more Corso found himself wishing he could go back in time and take back some of the things he’d said. Theron was a hero, and the most selfless man he’d ever met, he could see that now. Corso was fairly certain he wouldn’t have had the strength required to do what Theron had done in order to save their wife. Theron steadied himself, and smiled back, but he also gave Corso a quick nod with a stiff, jerky quality to his and betrayed he was still slightly uneasy. Corso didn’t think much of it—he figured it was only natural that Theron would be a bit nervous considering why they were here.

Theron continued to be on edge for most of their speeder ride over the plains, and Ixaleii held his hand even as she piloted, as if trying to let him know things would be okay. Corso was content to look on from his place in the back seat, understanding that for the two of them this was a lot harder than it was for him. Finally, they reached a small, remote farmstead, isolated almost entirely from the rest of the planet. There were a few fields of what appeared to be grain of some sort, and small, lovingly tended flower garden, all of which made Corso grin as he took it in. Ixaleii had been right. This place was exactly his speed.

As they exited the speeder, a figure was emerging from the farmhouse, clad in lightweight brown robes that marked her as a member of the Jedi Order. Though he’d only met her once or twice, and years ago at this point, Corso had no trouble recognizing the grey-haired woman as Satele Shan, the former Jedi Grand Master. Theron’s mother.

Satele was smiling kindly as she greeted them. It didn’t escape Corso’s notice that Theron tensed slightly at his mother’s touch when she gave him a welcoming embrace, but Corso also remembered the way the two of them had been all those years back on Rishi, how cold their relationship had once been compared to this, and how angry Theron had been back then when it came to her. It was admirable that they were even at this point. Of course, Satele had gone quite a ways and done some truly incredible things in the name of making amends.

Once the pleasantries were exchanged and a protocol droid had tittered out to help retrieve their bags, Satele led them into the homestead, down a long hallway. Ixaleii, who had lived in the house for several months and obviously knew its layout well, walked directly besides the Jedi, visibly filled with excitement and anticipation. Theron hung back slightly, still looking apprehensive and slightly sullen. Corso brought up the rear, taking in as much as he could of the place in a silent sort of wonder. The home truly had a calming atmosphere about it, and he could understand why it had been an ideal location for Ixaleii to spend her time in seclusion.

This was the perfect place to raise children.

“Mistress! It’s wonderful to see you again!”

They had turned into a large, warmly lit room with a large, round looking droid was standing. Corso assumed the tinny voice he’d just heard must have come from her. This was probably the nursemaid Ixaleii had told him about. Which meant—

“The children are napping, Mistress, but if you want to see them, I can easily—”

“Please, Ee-El.”

Corso watched his wife eagerly take off after the droid, Satele following closely behind as they approached two cradles. Ixaleii’s reaction was immediate, and she let out an audible sob as she reached into the closest cradle, drawing a small girl with pale blonde hair into her arms. From the other crib, Satele had lifted the other girl, slightly bigger and with darker hair, and was handing her to Ixaleii as well. Corso smiled. The babies were only a few months old at this point, but they already were large enough for Ixaleii to have difficulty holding them both. They were blinking sleepily, probably slightly confused as to why they’d been woken up.  Ixaleii was laughing through her tears, looking at her daughters in awe.

“You’re both so big! How did you get so big? You’ll be tall like your father, won’t you, leave your poor short mom down here alone.”

Corso heard Theron chuckle slightly beside him, and looked over to see that his friend had a steady stream of silent tears running down his face.

“Imagine if they end up built like their grandfather,” Theron said, trying to keep his tone light-hearted, but wiping his eyes as he spoke. Corso placed a bracing hand on the man’s shoulder. He doubted Theron had ever once expected to live long enough to see his daughters again. He looked back over to Ixaleii.  She’d handed the smaller girl—Jykaji, named after Ixaleii’s late sister—to Satele and was nuzzling her other daughter’s stomach, making the child laugh. Corso smiled, and he could almost feel Theron doing the same from beside him.

“She looks like you,” he remarked, looking back over to Theron. And it was true. Thera, the dark haired twin, had not only inherited her father’s hair color, but his eyes and his mouth as well. Even at such a young age it was easy to see that’d she’d grow up to be a carbon copy of her father.

“That’s what Ixaleii said,” he replied, his voice sounding thick and strained. He started to tear up again. “….I- I’m sorry, I just never thought… Seeing her like this is amazing, I just…”

“She’s a natural at being a mother,” Corso surmised. “I’m happy for you both.”

“……It should have been you,” Theron said quietly, looking uncomfortable. “You’re the one who deserves to be a father, not me. When I… left, I thought that I was righting that wrong.  She was going to raise the kids with you, and you were going to be an amazing father, the kind of father kids deserve to have. Not me.”

Corso was surprised by the raw openness of that admission. But Theron was wrong. The fact that he was so terrified meant that he cared, and that was the sort of father every child deserved.

“You’re going to do great,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.  “We both are. We’re a _family_ Theron. That’s what we agreed on. You told me you didn’t want children who had to grow up like you, and you’ve made that happen. Two dads, a mom, a grandma… That’s pretty special.”

“You’re… right,” Theron said, and Corso watched as some of the stiffness visibly left his shoulders.

“You know I am,” Corso said with a smile. “Now come on.  Introduce me to our daughters.”

Theron smiled, and they both moved to make their way over to Ixaleii, Satele, and the twins, who were both giggling loudly now.

Corso felt a peace settling deep in his chest. A family. Truly. Yeah, probably not the one his mother had envisioned for him all those years ago.

But a family nonetheless.

And it was perfect.

 

 


End file.
